


Ricks in Black

by Saint_Rick_The_Dick



Category: Rick and Morty
Genre: Dirty Talk, Double Penetration, F/M, Oral Sex, Rough Sex, Threesome, Vaginal Sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-22
Updated: 2018-02-27
Packaged: 2019-03-22 09:30:34
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,561
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13761213
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Saint_Rick_The_Dick/pseuds/Saint_Rick_The_Dick
Summary: My internet BFF and I were discussing President Morty’s Secret Service Ricks and how they reminded us of Men in Black agents so uhhhh. I turned them into Men in Black agents.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This first part is SFW aside from some foul language, but sexy shenanigans ARE planned.

“W-w-wait, no. Back up. That’s not what you said before - y-you need to start over.”

You groaned, buried your face in your hands. This day. Could this day get  _any_  worse? Not only had you learned your boss was actually an alien fugitive fleeing from the Intergalactic Planetary Alliance, you  _also_ discovered there was an entire organization dedicated to cataloging and tracking the thousands of other aliens living on Earth: The Men in Black.

And if all _that_  wasn’t enough, now you had to deal with the Ricks.

You didn’t know what else to call them, seeing as they were identical and had the _exact same name_.  

At first, you’d thought them twins, but when asked they denied it, said in perfect unison, “Different dimensions.” You weren’t sure what that meant so you’d nodded, smiled politely and continued to sip your lukewarm coffee.

Three and a half hours later, you were tired, your ass sore from sitting in the same unforgiving metal chair. You’d told them all you could remember, so  _why_  did they insist you re-hash the same mundane details over and over and over again?

“Rick - “

Two disparate ends of two unibrows quirked up. The effect was eerie.

“Look, w-we’re not here to fuck up your life. This isn’t - “

One burped, trailed off, and the other resumed.

“ - some Hollywood movie a-a-and we’re not the villains.”

But as reassuring as those words were meant to be all they did was raise your ire. No, they were  _not_ some movie villains but they  _were_  keeping you from going home, downing an entire bottle of wine, and passing the hell out. You sat back, shoulders slumped, and rubbed your eyes. With a deep breath, you composed yourself.

“Ok, guys. What else do you want to know?”

They shared a look, removed their dark sunglasses - again in perfect unison, it really was uncanny - and then did something that surprised you: each pulled a flask from inside their respective jackets. Two heads of unruly blue-gray hair tipped back as they drank, and then Rick - the one on the right - offered you his flask. You accepted, grimaced at the whiskey, but the liquor served to bolster, unwind, and you could feel some of the tension seeping from your neck and back. Without the glasses, their similarities were amplified rather than diminished, and it was then you realized they were attractive. But, no, you pushed those thoughts away. Since when did you find old men hot? Especially weird old men who said they  _weren’t_  twins, yet were  _exactly_  the same?

Left Rick sniffed, tucked away his flask, elbowed Right Rick in the side who followed suit. One leaned forward, the other leaned back.

“Oook, we need to - let’s start from the - “

“- w-w-we better start from the beginning.”

You sighed, resigned to your fate.

“Alright, so…”

——-

“I’m sorry, sir, but we’re out of blueberry scones.”

_That_ was the wrong answer, as the gentleman reacted to the news as if you’d smacked him with the business end of baseball bat as opposed to informing him his preference of pastry was unavailable. His face twisted, two bright spots of red appearing high on his cheeks. You were preparing yourself for the inevitable outburst, the torrent of abuse, but his tirade never materialized as the moment he opened his mouth, the wall behind you quite literally exploded.

You were thrown into chaos. Dust and glass, chunks of plaster, shredded paper, an assortment of kitchen equipment - it was all blown inward. There was a crunch. An industrial sized mixer barrelled into two of the wooden tables in the tiny sitting area of the cafe, reducing them to kindling. Huddled behind the counter, you closed your eyes, covered your head, as everything in your immediate vicinity collapsed, shattered. You could hear the sounds of yelling, a shouted curse as it cut through the cacophony of screaming patrons, the ringing in your ears, and when you finally found the courage to creep up, extract yourself from your makeshift hidey hole, you saw them.

Two men - two _identical_  men - wearing crisp black suits, dark sunglasses. They were scowling, severe frowns turning down the corners of their mouths, their unibrows a V of concentration. In their hands they held… Guns? But what kind of guns glowed blue? And they had them pointed _directly_  at you.

You yelped, dove back beneath the counter only to come face to face with a  _monster._

Well, that might have been a bit of an exaggeration, but it was most definitely  _not_ human - far too many tentacles - and the noises it issued were a mix of high pitched screeches and a low wet, gurgle. It reached for you and you shrieked, stood, scrambled over the top of the counter - glowing guns be damned - and ran smack into a man’s chest. He was tall,  _so_ tall, and when he wrapped an arm around your shoulder you clung to him, terrified.

“Y-y-you need to get - go on. Get the fuck out of here. I-I’m sure you don’t want to watch the insides of a Cephaloid become its outsides.”

You didn’t know what that was, but you inferred his meaning: danger.

“Where should I go?!”

But he ignored the question, shoved you away, pointed behind you.

“Anywhere but here. Rick! Where the fuck - w-w-what the fuck are you doing?”

His double ducked out from behind an overturned table, saw you and cursed.

“Goddamnit! I-I-I  _hate_  bystanders. Aaaalright, let’s go. You and me.”

He grabbed your arm in an attempt to lead you away when a choked squeal emitted from your previous position. It sounded hurt and scared, but above all  _angry._  The one named Rick turned to his twin, nodded once. His partner headed to the right to flank, while Rick yanked you down, told you to stay put before re-positioning his gun in both hands and slowly creeping forward.

“Thaaaat’s enough out of you, Marv! Y-y-you - what the fuck, did you think we wouldn’t find you? That your ass could just hide here forever?”

The noise came again, louder this time, more emphatic. It made you cringe and grit your teeth. But Rick seemed unfazed, continued his gradual march.

“Oh, c’moooon. Don’t give me that - th-that’s some  _bullshit._  I-i-it’s not my problem that you’re too lazy to re-new your interplanetary Visa!

Whatever response the thing named Marv may have had was cut short when Rick’s double sprung up from behind the counter, weapon drawn. You saw the triumphant grin on his face, the glee at a successful conquest, but it evaporated when a single tentacle shot out, wrapped itself around his arm, and pulled. He disappeared with a shout, and Rick cursed, leapt forward, bounded over a pile of rubble.

“Let him go, Marv! Assault on an official MIB representative is - y-y-you’re just rackin ‘em up today, fuckface!”

Rick’s partner had popped back into view, was tangling with Marv’s grip, attempting to wrestle free, but whatever this thing was it was  _strong_ , and the older man was no match. Rick kept his weapon drawn, attempted to negotiate, but his double wasn’t interested in diplomacy.

“Get this piece of shit off me! Fucking - fucking shoot it!”

Rick denied the request.

“We’re supposed to be taking this dickwad in alive! Zed said he’s got at least twelve different - “

“I-I-I don’t give a  _fuck_ what Zed said! Fucking shoot it! This motherfucker’s gonna eat me!”

And indeed, Marv was dragging its captive down, though whether he was in any real danger of being consumed was something you didn’t know.

You heard Rick growl, watched him make an adjustment to his gun, and then he raised it, took aim and fired. There was a pulse of blue light which erupted from the barrel, and when it impacted the target - Marv’s exposed tentacle - the resulting mess was extravagant, painted the surroundings in a garrish mix of red and green viscera. A shrill wail followed, but before Marv could trap his quarry once more, there was another blast of blue - this one from Rick’s double - and another splatter of gore, after which the wail petered out to a low whine until it ceased entirely. A sound of disgust drew your attention away from the seeping goo.

“Oh you - y-y-you  _reeeaally_  had to do that, huh? Couldn’t - couldn’t aim for the fucking head or the - “

“ - the what?! The head? Tell me something, d-bag, where’s the head on a fucking CEPHALOID? Oh - oh thaaaat’s right, y-y-you were too fucking _drunk_ during Alien Anatomy 101 to remember a single goddamn thing - “

“ - about w-w-where to find the space between the eyeballs of a tentacled asshole? Try again, Rick, you son of a shiteating, turd licking, motherf - “

“Wait, you’re  _both_ named Rick?!”

At your words, they fell silent. In tandem, their heads turned towards you and you heard them whisper in identical undertones: “Aaaah,  _shit_.”


	2. Chapter 2

“Then you guys drug me here, stuck me in this room, and made me repeat myself for  _four hours_.”

The booze had loosened your tongue, made you brazen. While recounting your story  _again_ , one or the other would pull out his flask, take a drink, offer it to you. By the time you were finished, the pleasant buzz of alcohol was persistent, and more than once you’d caught yourself staring at their long, tapered fingers, the way the lines of their tailored suits accentuated their narrow chests. They were so tall and _lean_ , their voices delicious, gravelly and deep. You found yourself wondering if they would praise you as they fucked you, tell you they liked the way you looked taking their dicks - both at the same time, you  _wanted_ both. Would they leave their clothes on? Those suits were perfection, but the prospect of running your hands along their bare skin and wiry muscle was enticing, and you didn’t know which you would prefer.

You flushed at these thoughts, your cheeks going red, and when the Rick on the right stood to exit the room on the pretense of retrieving some necessary documentation, you noted the bloom of warmth which spread at watching his lithe form stride away. You were still slightly puzzled by this recent desire, but now you accepted rather than questioned, and when he returned you averted your gaze, crossed your legs, seeking friction, relief.

Because of this, you missed the shared glance which passed between them when Rick sat down. So as you fidgeted, bounced your foot, chewed on your bottom lip, they stood in tandem, circled around behind you. A large hand landed on each shoulder and you jumped, your head swiveling back and forth in an attempt to look at both at the same time.

“Aaaalright, that’s - I-I-I think you’ve covered it.” The Rick on the left.

“Yeeeep. Definitely uh - y-y-you gave us all we need.” The Rick on the right.

“Soooo, that just leaves - we have one more question - “

“ - it’s a very _important_ one. So pay attention, slut.”

Your breath caught.

“Suits on -

“- or suits off?

When you didn’t respond, they hauled you to your feet, spun you around. Your eyes darted between the two, unsure of where to look, but when the Rick on your left leaned in, gripped your jaw, the Rick on the right pinned your hips to the edge of the table, placed a wet kiss to your neck. You made a small, needy sound in your throat, strained to meet him but he held you captive, growled into your skin.

“Y-y-you  _are_  a little slut. Tell me, how long have - you’ve been sitting here the whole time thinking about taking our dicks?”

The boldness of the question made you blush anew, but with both of them pressed to you, the hard lines of their bodies solid and forceful, you didn’t  _dare_  lie. You  _wanted_  them and they  _knew_  it.

“I - no! Not the  _whole_  time… “

They hummed in approval and then you were spun again, forced to bend at the waist, your face pressed to the cool metal of the table.

“Hands behind you. Let’s go.”

It wasn’t a request. You crossed your wrists at your lower back where a tie was used to bind them as one ran his palm along your clothed cunt. When you moaned, rolled to meet his touch, you heard him grunt.

“ _Ffuck_ , that’s - I-I-I bet you’re already wet for us. That pussy is - .”

He trailed off to remove your shorts and panties, settling them around your knees. With two fingers, he spread the lips of your cunt, found the stiff button of your clit, pressed the sensitive flesh until you whined and bucked in frustration. When he came away, his fingers glistened with your moisture and he licked them clean.

“Mmm, you taste  _gooood_ , baby.”

“Lemme - enough of this. To your knees, slut.”

One of them yanked on your bindings only to push you to the floor. You connected hard, winced at the bright sparks of pain which shot up your thighs. The Rick on the right fisted your hair, jerked your head back, which afforded you a generous view of his erection. It was massive, strained the front of his trousers, and he smirked when your eyes went wide with question.

“Yyyyeaah, i-i-it’s even bigger on the  _outside_.”

With his free hand, he undid his belt, brought down his fly, shifted around in his underwear, and oh  _god_ , he was  _right._  His cock was huge, thick and veiny, and it made you wonder if the other’s was the same. From behind, came the confirmation of your unspoken query.

“I-I-I hope you can handle two of those, baby.”

But you had no time to reply before the Rick in front of you ordered you to open your mouth. You did, and he placed the fat head on your tongue, letting you savor his salt and musk, before he thrust forward, hard, hitting the back of your throat. You gagged, your eyes watered, and you extended your jaw in an effort to fit all of him. He bit his lip, groaned once, a deep, delicious sound, and then he was fucking your face, his movements languid, leisurely, his grip in your hair a vice as he intimated the rhythm he sought.

“Ooohff - _fuck_! Just - just like that. Y-y-you look so pretty with my dick in your mouth.”

You gurgled around him, but just as soon as you’d picked up a steady pace, adjusted to his girth, your head was wrenched back and turned by the other Rick demanding your attention.

“Y-y-you got two dicks here, slut. Don’t get too comfortable.”

Leaning forward, you swallowed him whole, taking him into your throat far enough to press your nose to his sparse pubes. This earned you praise. You wanted more, so you repeated the motion, each time pulling back enough to swirl your tongue just right.

“Fuck, baby. Y-you suck dick like it’s your job.”

The other Rick grunted, impatient.

“Hey stand - get up. On your feet.”

You released Rick with a soft pop, struggled to stand without your hands or arms for balance. But once there, you were merely forced to bend at the waist again, stepping out of the clothes which had pooled at your ankles. The Rick behind you grabbed your bound wrists with one hand, used the other to run his cock along the lips of your wet cunt, slicking himself, and then he sunk into you with a hoarse groan, making you gasp and arch as he filled you. It hurt, the sting palpable, he was so thick, and when he placed his other hand on your hip, started to fuck you, his pace hard and fast, you sobbed, loud, shameless, only to have the other Rick grab your head in both of his hands, direct your mouth back to his cock.

“Thaaaaat’s it, good girl. Y-y-you’re such a good little slut, taking both our dicks.”

They used you in tandem, the one behind driving into you, his grip on your wrists and hip ensuring he could force you back, your ass and thighs slapping against his narrow pelvis, while the one in front held your face immobile, fucked down your throat. Together, they stuttered, growled, ruined you, and you were trapped, a willing captive held between two distinct points of terrible bliss. Drool ran freely, dripped from your jaw, and your cunt ached. You clenched, desperate to cum, that sweet tension directed ever higher, and if you’d been able to speak you would have begged Rick to touch your clit, but all you could do was moan and pray for mercy.

“Nnnff _fuck_  that pussy is so wet and - and tight. But I want… more.”

Rick slowed, his thrusts going gradual and deep, hitting the secret place inside you, making you tremble, but then he hawked and spat, his saliva running down the crack of your ass. He released your hip, used his fingers to press the wetness into that tight entrance. You whined at the discomfort, but welcomed the pain as he worked you open, his fingers stretching and scissoring. He withdrew, still slick from your cunt, positioned himself at your ass, and slowly, so slowly, pushed his way inside.

In a moment of kindness, the other Rick released your head, allowed you to pull away and sob your ecstacy, your misery, but then he knelt, forced you to look at him. He watched you, studied you, his lips curled in a grin.

“I-I-I love the faces you sluts make when we fuck you open.”

You whimpered in response, Rick’s slow, short thrusts eating away at your composure. And when he finally breached the tight ring of muscle, sinking fully into your ass, your eyes fluttered closed and you moaned, wanton and guttural.

“Oh  _shit,_ she’s - mmmmm fuck her ass is tight.”

“Yeah yeah, d-bag. No need to - pull her up.”

He did, and in the process released your wrists, but it barely registered before the Rick in front of you pressed in close, lifted and gripped one of your legs, wrapped it around his waist. With his boozy breath and sharp stubble, he ran his lips and tongue along the line of your jaw, positioned his cock at your slick entrance.

“I-I bet that pussy is niiiiice and wet. Hold still, baby.”

And when he rocked in, filling you, you flung your arms around his neck, pressed your forehead to his chest to muffle your cries. He exhaled, kissed your hair, giving you a moment to adjust as your body struggled to accommodate both of them, and then together they began to move. They supported your weight, balanced as you were on one foot, but the roll of their hips, their deep groans, it was too much, and already you were cresting, building, the earlier denial of release returning in a flood of desire and rampant greed. Again they used you as they saw fit, gave you no quarter, no relief, fucking into you with all the raw, carnal power they possessed, leaving you no choice but to cling to them, wait for them to deliver you unto that horizon.   

“Rick! Oh _god!_ ”

You didn’t know which one you were beseeching - did it matter? - but they responded just the same, urging you, pushing you to fall apart around them.

“Mmm that’s right. Cum for me, slut - “

“- I-I-I know you want to, can feel your - nnnf - that tight pussy squeezing my dick. Go on, baby. Do it.”

With a grunt, Rick shoved forward, pressing his pelvis to your clit, grinding against you, and with that simple reprieve, you tumbled and fell over the precipice. You collapsed forward, all semblance of control demolished, howled their names and a string of curses, gripped the lapels of Rick’s jacket. They didn’t stop, refused you a moment to savor the sweetness of your climax and instead fucked your through it, chased you down into the abyss. The Rick behind you lost his rhythm first, his hips stuttering, and he moaned, sank his teeth into the skin of your neck as he thrust up, hard, burying himself completely in your ass as he came. And then the Rick in front you was growling, his fingers digging half moons into the soft flesh of your thigh as he emptied himself into your cunt.

The three of you stood, temporarily fused together, chests rising and falling, working to catch your shared breath. But the moment was brief, broken when they withdrew as one leaving you to tumble to the floor, your legs too shaky to hold your weight. They ignored you, tucking themselves away as you reached for your clothes, redressed. Their cum was leaking from your ass and cunt, you could feel it, but unsure of what to do next you simply stood, gripped the edge of the table for balance. Finally, they turned to you, their suits once again in perfect symmetry, sunglasses in place, their previous semi-professionalism restored.

“Aaaalright, you’re - y-y-you’re almost free to go - “

“ - excpet for. W-w-we have one more thing. If you would look here.”

The Rick on the left held up a narrow, silver tube. It had a small, red light at the top which pulsed and glowed. He pointed to it and you blinked, squinted, did as instructed.

And right before the blue flash erased all of your memories of this day - the fight, the aliens, the interrogation,  _them_  - they grinned simultaneously.

“Ricks out, biiiiitch!”


End file.
